Dread filled Mulder's belly with the click of each deadbolt unlocking. Scully had asked to meet at the Lone Gunmen's apartment but wouldn't reveal the reason over the phone. Paranoia – his old friend, a constant companion – stoked the fires of suspicion in his mind. Typically, Scully didn't reach out to the Gunmen without using Mulder as an intermediary. For some reason, she felt the need to contact them directly.
The hitch of the last in a comically long series of chains and locks made Mulder's stomach lurch. Based on the fact that Scully went behind his back, he had a hunch the meeting may not be friendly. His flight-or-fight instinct threatened to start its launch sequence without his permission.
"The latest in home security," he deadpanned.
Inside the apartment, he found Scully dressed head to toe in black flanked by Langley and Byers. A unified battalion – against him.
"I'll ask you to hear me out before you launch any objection," Scully said with no greeting, no preamble, and no warmth in her voice. Her eyes burned with conviction. Whatever this was, she was prepared to fight for it.
She continued, "Mulder, I asked them to pull up everything they could on Diana Fowley."
He deflated. How many more times did they have to debate Diana and her intentions? It was getting old and hindering their ability to make progress on the things that mattered.
Diana's resurgence in their lives could not have come at a worse time. He and Scully were agonizingly close to discovering the earth-shattering truths about Cassandra Spender. And as if on cue, Diana reappeared, throwing a wrench in everything. The contamination protocol that she spearheaded and the subsequent isolation of Cassandra was Scully's last straw.
At the quarantine center, Scully stopped masking her disdain for Diana. There had been contempt – raw, naked – in her eyes for Diana. Other times they had worked together, Scully feigned cordiality. Before, her accusations toward Diana had been indirect, muted by Scully's extraordinary professionalism. But something had changed. Something was different now. The gloves were off.
As Scully explained what little they dug up on Diana, he couldn't help but feel ambushed. His three friends and Scully all conspired to gather – frankly, weak – evidence that Diana had ulterior motives. She was apparently collecting data on female abductees, visiting European chapters of MUFON. Big whoop.
They had nothing. Their little intervention didn't prove anything. While it didn't terribly surprise him that Scully went digging into Diana's past, the Gunmen's backing of Scully stung. They were supposed to be his friends. Everything about their body language and expressions told him they were solidly on Scully's side of the matter. It put him on the defensive in a big way.
Scully concluded, "You ask me to trust no one, and yet you trust her on simple faith."
"Because you've given me no reason here to do otherwise," he replied.
The air in the room shifted. The Gunmen looked visibly uncomfortable with Mulder's dismissal of her concerns.
"Well, then I can't help you anymore," Scully said, crossing the room to leave.
That sentence zapped the air right out of his lungs. Fear gripped him the same way it did when she came to his apartment and said she resigned from the FBI. She would leave him over this? Over fucking Diana? After everything they had been through, this was what would break them? Scully, who only trusted hard science – physical proof of things – would abandon him over the most scant evidence of wrongdoing? It didn't make any sense. He couldn't fathom losing her over something so trivial.
It had to be about more than just this. Maybe it was Scully's personal connection to the abductees. He could understand her sensitivity to the subject. Though, even that didn't quite line up for him. All they said was Diana collected data on the women, something he and Scully had done many times.
Was she jealous? He waved the thought away as soon as it surfaced.
Mulder searched for something to say – anything – to get her to stay. Before he could think through the ramifications, he said, "Scully, you're making this personal." It came out as an accusation, and he immediately regretted it.
"Because it is personal, Mulder," she fired back. "Because without the FBI, personal interest is all I have. And if you take that away, then there's no reason for me to continue."
He was shocked at the tears forming in her eyes. Behind her confrontational demeanor, behind all this bravado, Scully was hurt. Whatever reason Scully despised Diana so much, it affected Scully deeply. He had hurt her. Again.
Then, with a slam of the door, she was gone. Mulder was left standing in her wake, enveloped by awkward silence.
"Thanks for having my back, guys," he said quietly to the Gunmen, staring at the door. He wasn't sure what else to say to his supposed friends who let him get verbally pummeled by Scully.
Frohike piped up first. "We were just trying to help her out. You have to admit, this situation is a little shady."
"A little?" Langley added with a smirk.
That pissed him off. He whipped around to face them. "Don't you find this all to be a bit of a stretch? She's looking for something that isn't there. And for what? Why?"
"She's upset about Cassandra," Langley explained, "and Diana's involvement in her isolation."
"It does seem suspicious how she keeps popping up every time you're so close to discovering the truth," Byers agreed.
"You all sound like Scully now," Mulder muttered, exasperated, crossing his arms.
"Is what Scully's telling us untrue?" Frohike asked.
Mulder's silence, his lack of any objection, told them what they needed to know.
Byers finally chimed in, "May I be so bold as to suggest that, while this is about Cassandra, it's also about more than Cassandra?"
The guys all exchanged glances.
This annoyed Mulder even more. "Just spit it out. What are you trying to say?"
"Come on, man," Frohike said, tilting his head to the side, "you know."
Mulder raised his eyebrows, prompting him to finish his thought.
"Whatever you're doing with Diana, however you're acting around her, is not flying with Mrs. Spooky," Frohike explained.
Mulder sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What are you talking about?"
Frohike went on. "Do I really have to spell it out? Scully knows Diana was your old flame."
"I know," he bristled. "That's irrelevant to all of this."
"I don't think it is," Byers replied thoughtfully.
"I've told you guys many times before that it's not like that with Scully. We are friends. That is it."
The guys looked at each other knowingly once again.
"Will you guys quit that?"
Frohike said, "Well if you ever want it to be like that someday, you gotta cut it out with Diana. Tell Scully the truth. That she's your priority. That she's the one who is most important to you. That you trust her above everyone else."
Mulder shook his head, incredulous. Of all people, the Gunmen were passing judgment on his love life. "Wow. Thanks for the advice, guys. Next time you're giving a seminar on relationships, I'll be sure to sign up."
Mulder left in a huff, his feathers sufficiently ruffled.
Diana was not a threat, and he would prove it. More determined than ever to clear her name, he went straight to her apartment to confront her. He was confident she would explain it all to him and put the speculation to rest. Then, he could give Scully the rational explanation she demanded so they could move past this. That's all he could think about. He couldn't lose Scully, especially not over something like this.
When Diana failed to answer the door, he broke into her apartment with his lock pick. Fuck it. If he couldn't speak with her directly, he would find the answers for himself. He rummaged through her apartment, opening drawers and cabinets, feeling a little unhinged and desperate. To his relief or dismay – he wasn't sure which – her apartment was spotless, almost suspiciously so.
As if the fates were intervening right on schedule, the Smoking Man entered Diana's apartment, claiming to be searching for Jeffrey Spender. Then, he had an ugly thought. It hovered over his shoulder like a little devil (or angel), prodding him. What if Scully and the Gunmen were right? What if Diana had been lying to him?
When Mulder threatened the Smoking Man, gun in hand, stating, "I know your game and I have nothing to lose," he felt every word of it.
The Smoking Man did what he always did – slither through sentences like a snake in the grass. He gave Mulder a history lesson he didn't want to believe. The humorless punchline was that Mulder's father willingly gave up Samantha for the cause. And the colonization was in motion. The only option left was to give up. He left Mulder a lead, enough to whet his curiosity, enough to keep Mulder from putting a bullet in his head. It was a scrap of paper with the name of an air force base. The colonists planned to meet there, to face the grim future.
The encounter left Mulder feeling empty, depleted. What kind of father could give up their child? He couldn't comprehend it. Samantha's abduction had left a hole in their family that was never mended. By comparison, his quest to prove Diana's innocence seemed so meaningless. At that moment, everything seemed meaningless. He sat in Diana's apartment, dumbstruck, clutching the piece of paper, until she finally came through the door.
"I came here looking for evidence," he explained.
"What are you talking about?"
"Evidence that you lied to me – that you had loyalties other than to me or to the X-Files."
"Nothing could be further from the truth, Fox. Nothing."
She tucked her hair behind her ear nervously. He realized that he couldn't read her as easily as he could years ago. Before she abandoned him for her assignment in Europe, back when they were lovers, he knew her every tick and tell. Back then, she hid nothing from him. She was the kind of person who was honest to the point of cruelty. The kind of person who "told it like it is" regardless of whose feelings it hurt. She almost prided herself on it. It was hard to imagine a version of Diana capable of blatantly lying to his face. Yet, he sensed that she was holding things back. Perhaps lying by omission.
When he revealed that he encountered the Smoking Man in her apartment and shared the information he had divulged, he expected her to be more shocked. Her face made all the necessary movements to indicate surprise, but he sensed worry more than anything else. Maybe Scully was right. Maybe he didn't know her anymore.
"There's nothing to be done," Mulder concluded, defeated. "At some point, you have to accept that the only way those you love are going to survive is if you give up."
In a way, his statement was a test. There was a part of him that wanted Diana to argue with him. Tell me to fight this, he thought. Tell me to fight back. Tell me to stop them. It was what Scully would say if she were there and that was the problem. She wasn't Scully.
Diana took his hand, an attempt at consolation, and found the scrap of paper in his palm.
"That's where it all begins," he said. "That's where we need to be if we want to survive it."
For a moment, she fell silent and studied his face. No argument was forthcoming. No plea to fight against their adversaries. She accepted his defeat.
Maybe he shouldn't have been surprised at what came next. She kissed him. Old habits die hard, he supposed. In their old life together, having sex was always easier than talking through their problems. But he felt nothing for her now. He felt numb. He neither leaned in nor leaned away, letting it happen with detachment. It was like he was outside his body watching it happen. The moment couldn't have felt any less romantic. What a strange time for her to force a physical connection.
When he didn't return the kiss, she wrapped her arms around him in a hug. He wondered whether her affection was meant to comfort or to seduce him into continuing on the path of surrender.
She pulled away, searching his eyes. "What's wrong?"
Overwhelmed with everything, he lost all his words. She leaned in to kiss him again and he held up his hand to stop her.
"I can't –" he rasped.
"You're with Scully," she stated, matter-of-fact. She sat back in her chair, with an I knew it expression on her face.
He shook his head, gaze lowering to the ground. "It's not – that's not it."
She raised an eyebrow. "You're not together? Frankly, I find that hard to believe."
"Yeah, well, you don't know everything," he said softly. How interesting that she kissed him while she fully believed he was in a relationship with Scully.
"But clearly you love her." Again, she stated it as a fact.
He sucked in a breath to say something, but no words came out.
"I see," she said, taking his reaction as an affirmative. She stood, starting to pace. "It's natural to develop feelings. Working in close quarters. Like how it happened with you and me."
That made him find his voice. "It's nothing like you and me."
The venom in his voice gave her pause. "Is that meant to be an insult?"
"It's just different."
"How is it different?" She stopped pacing and pinned him with a steely look.
"For one, we didn't have sex after forty-eight hours."
"Please. Don't get on your high horse because you waited a little longer."
Mulder raised his eyebrows.
"You haven't slept together?" she asked, incredulous.
He looked down at his hands. "We never, uh, we've never even kissed."
A hint of a smile played on her lips. This was amusing to her. "I didn't realize she was so . . . puritanical."
He didn't appreciate the mocking lilt in her voice. He stood from his seat and said, raising his voice a little, "Believe it or not, sex is not a requirement for a good partnership."
"A good partnership?" she scoffed. "Is that what you have? You could have fooled me with how she treated you at the quarantine center."
"It's not – we're not usually like that." He didn't owe her an explanation, and he mentally kicked himself for taking the bait.
She shrugged, accepting his answer. "If that's true, then I guess she's simply threatened by me. She must be a deeply insecure person."
That was too far. He locked eyes with her, a fire burning behind them. It infuriated him how she could rattle off criticisms of Scully – the person he cared about most in the world – with such nonchalance.
"That's enough," he growled.
"Struck a nerve?" she quipped, casually grabbing her purse and slinging the strap over her shoulder. Her smile curled like vengeance. "We should get to the Air Force base."
"You're wrong about Scully."
"Calm down, Fox," she said, her eyes assessing him from head to toe. As she spoke, she rummaged in her purse for something, speaking coolly, "I truly don't care whether the two of you are together or not. All I know is the rumors I've heard, but now you've dispelled them. That's that."
"I love her," he blurted out. He didn't know why he said it at that particular moment, but the words tumbled out of him like they had been trying to escape all day.
Diana stopped searching through her purse and met his eyes. There was genuine bewilderment in her expression mixed with a tinge of disappointment. If she had believed he loved Scully, she didn't expect him to admit it out loud.
"You can't give her what she wants, Fox," she said with performative sadness.
"What does that mean?" She set a trap and he walked right into it.
"I know you," she purred, slinking toward him, "and settling down – marriage, kids, playing house – it's not you."
"How do you know that's what she wants? You don't know her. You don't know anything about her."
She looked at him with a pitiful expression. "That's what all women want. You know that."
"And what about you?" He knew the answer to that question already but wanted to prove a point. She never wanted those things.
Ignoring his attempt to poke holes in her argument, she asked, "Do you really think she's going to follow you on your crusade forever? Don't you think she deserves better?"
There it was: Mulder's greatest fears verbalized. Diana did still know him. Only someone who truly knew him could pinpoint his insecurities and exploit them with such devastating precision. What's worse – he knew Scully did want those things Diana said. Scully wanted to settle down. She wanted a normal life.
Mulder swallowed. He couldn't believe that he used to love this woman. He couldn't believe that once upon a time he imagined a whole life with her. Diana was one of the few people he had ever loved – that he had been loved by in return. The hurt was immeasurable.
"You're right," he said, his voice hoarse, tears stinging his eyes. "We should get going."
Mulder brushed by her and headed to the door. When his hand reached the doorknob, Diana rushed up behind him and grabbed his forearm.
"Fox –" she said, stopping him, apologetic.
He paused and looked her in the eyes. Maybe she wasn't lying about allegiances. Maybe she still had loyalty to the X-Files. Maybe she still believed in the work, in finding the truth. But there was one thing he knew for certain. This woman did not have his best interests at heart anymore.
"Never speak to me about Scully again."
As he opened the door and left the apartment, he took his phone out of his pocket and called Scully. Despite their argument, he still wanted her to join him on the next leg of the journey. If he knew her – and he liked to think he knew her better than anyone – she would want to know what he learned from the Smoking Man.
"Hey Scully, it's me," he said when she picked up.
"Mulder, I was just dialing you. Where are you?" Her voice was colored with urgency.
Thank god. She hadn't completely written him off. Perhaps he had overreacted thinking she would leave him forever over this.
"I'm with Diana," he said, bracing for a negative reaction. None was forthcoming. Scully explained that she knew where Cassandra was. She was pursuing a lead on her own – she still had the fight in her, regardless of Diana.
He had to make a choice. He could follow the lead handed down from his greatest enemy. A man who had been the greatest hindrance to his work. A man who came to Diana's apartment under dubious circumstances. Or, he could trust Scully's judgment and follow her. They could fight the good fight. Together.
The choice was obvious.
"I'm gonna send you on ahead," he said to Diana after hanging up.
"What is it? What did she say?"
"This may be our last chance to stop them." He wouldn't divulge any more than that. He had already wasted too much time on her.
